I'll Watch Over You
by FaithinBones
Summary: Booth, desperately tired, is called into another murder investigation.
1. Chapter 1

Okay, this story popped into my head Halloween night and I decided to see what I could do with it. It is just something that my imagination dreamed up. It is two chapters long. I hope you enjoy it. Be aware, this story is a little different from most of my stories. Don't assume anything.

I don't own Bones.

Oooooooooooo

His phone ringing, Booth slapped his hand on the receiver and placed it against his ear. Not quite awake, he groaned as he answered. "Booth."

"_Sorry, I know you worked late last night, but we got a case."_

Opening his eyes, Booth looked at the alarm clock on his night stand. "It's 4:47, damn you."

"_What do you want from me? Cullen said for me to call you and I did."_

His eyes filled with grit, Booth turned over and rubbed his eyes. "I'll be there after I make some coffee. You don't like it, tough!"

oooooooooooooo

Arriving at the crime scene, Booth held his Thermos of coffee under his left arm while drinking from a mug. As he slowly approached the crime scene, Booth took in the activity surrounding the body. Walking past a police officer, Booth frowned a the mob standing nearby. "The press is too close, Baker. Make them move back another 500 yards. The crime scene is too small."

Sloppily saluting Booth, Baker motioned towards two other officers and started pushing the reporters back. "Come on people, the FBI wants you to move further back. Stop your bellyaching and just do it."

Her press credentials in her hand, Hannah Burley waved them in the air and shouted at Baker. "Look you have no right to keep the press from this story. We have a right to know what's going on."

Rolling his eyes, Baker shook his head. "Listen to me, the FBI and Metro Police are not trying to keep you away from the story. We just need to be able to do our jobs and we don't need reporters trying to make it harder for us. Now move back or I'll run you in for impeding an investigation."

Finished with his coffee, Booth placed his thermos and mug on the hood of a police cruiser and moved closer to the body. "Okay, I'm here. Now tell me why I'm here."

Standing up, Doctor Cam Saroyan smiled at her grumpy friend. "Seeley, didn't I just see you at another crime scene six hours ago?"

Disgruntled, Booth pulled a small notebook from his jacket pocket. "Yes, Cam you did. Looks like I'm getting as much sleep as you are."

Laughing, Cam shook her head. "Which means none at all."

He didn't have a come back, so he shrugged his shoulders. "Why am I here, Cam?"

Pointing at the body, the coroner explained, "Looks like a Federal case, Seeley. The victim is Dr. Daniel Goodman. He's the Director of the Jeffersonian Institute."

Peering closely at the body, Booth asked, "Cause of death?"

Cam squatted next to the body and moved the victims head so he could see. "It appears that he was shot in the back of the head. I think the bullet is still inside his skull, so I should be able to retrieve it during the autopsy."

Looking around, Booth pursed his lips. "I wonder why he was here? There isn't anything around here except warehouses."

Puzzled, Cam released his head and stood up. "That surprised me too. He's been dead for about four hours so he died around 1:30. None of the warehouses around here are open this time of night that's for sure."

Jotting down a few notes, Booth finally looked up from his notebook. "Who found the body? I'd like to talk to him."

Quickly scanning the area, cam pointed down the street. "The guy in the pea coat found him."

Looking back at his Thermos, Booth pointed at it. "I have coffee over there if you need it."

A smile lighting her face, Cam turned to look at the Thermos. "Oh thank you. You're a God send."

Amused, Booth walked over to where the sailor was standing. Holding up his credentials, Booth identified himself. "FBI Special Agent Seeley Booth, I heard you found the body."

Annoyed that he was being kept at the crime scene, the sailor punched his fists in his jacket pockets. "Yeah, I was taking a walk and I found him. Can I go now? I'm tired and I want to go to bed."

"Not until I get some more information, Sir." Holding his pen in his right hand, Booth started to iinterrogate the man. "So what's your name?"

Resigned that he had to stay for awhile longer, the sailor replied, "Chief Petty Officer, Dwight Andre."

Pointing around with his pen, Booth asked his next question. "Why'd you walk down this particular street? Were you meeting Dr. Goodman here?"

Andre removed his hands from his jacket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. "Who's Dr. Goodman?"

Jotting down the witness's name, Booth pointed at the victim. "The victim."

Placing a cigarette in his mouth, Andre denied he knew him. "I don't know anyone by the name of Dr. Goodman. I told you I was just taking a walk and I found him. I didn't see anyone else so why don't you let me go now?"

His gaze flicking towards the various warehouses, Booth returned his gaze back towards Andre. "There isn't anything here but warehouses, Sir. I find it hard to believe you came here just to walk. This is the kind of place you plan to come to not a place you pass through."

Irritated with Booth, Andre took the cigrarette out of his mouth. "I like to walk by myself without meeting people. This is the perfect place to do that. It allows me to walk without having to talk to people. I'm what you call non-social."

Making a few more notes, Booth handed Andre his notebook. "Okay Chief Petty Officer Andre, write down your name, phone number and address and then you can go."

Relieved, Andre grabbed the notebook and wrote down the information. Once he was done he handed the little book back. "It's a shame the guy is dead."

Nodding his head, Booth placed the notebook back in his jacket pocket. "I'm sure his family will think so."

Ooooooooooooooo

After he parked his black, 1952 Ford Victoria across the street from the Jeffersonian, Booth walked across the street and entered the building. Spying a security guard standing near a desk, Booth approached him. Holding up his badge, he asked the man, "I need to speak to someone about Dr. Daniel Goodman. Did he have an assistant or a colleague I could speak to?"

"Sure." Walking around the desk, the guard lifted the receiver up and dialed a number. "Someone from the FBI wants to talk to someone about Dr. Goodman, do you want to handle that?" Getting his answer, the guard looked at FBI Agent. "Dr. Brennan is on the way."

Booth leaned against the counter and watched at the security guard sat down. "Do you know Dr. Goodman?"

Leaning forward the man smiled. "Sure, everyone knows Dr. Goodman. He's a great man to work for . . . uh, is something wrong? Dr. Goodman didn't come in today. I hope he's okay."

A sound alerting him, Booth noticed the door behind the desk open. Intrigued, Booth stood up straight and stared at the beautiful woman entering the lobby. As she approached the desk, Booth held up his badge and credentials. "Special Agent Seeley Booth. Are you Dr. Brennan?"

Not sure why the FBI was at the Jeffersonian, Brennan looked at his badge and then at Booth. "Yes, I was told you wish to talk about Dr. Goodman. Why? He isn't here right now."

Placing his badge in his jacket pocket, Booth grimly pointed at the door behind the desk. "Is there somewhere more private where we can talk?"

Her curiosity piqued, Brennan glanced at the door and then back at Booth. "Yes, we can to go my office if you wish."

Pointing at the door, Booth moved around the desk. "Thank you." Following her through the door, he admired the shape of her body and the confident way she walked.

Ooooooooooooooo

Sitting next to Brennan's desk, Booth pulled out his notebook. "I hate to inform you about this, but Dr. Goodman is dead. He was murdered earlier this morning."

Shocked at the news, Brennan turned her head and stared at a skull she kept on display on a shelf. Reining in her emotions, she turned to look at Booth. "Do you know why he was murdered or who did it?"

Unable to keep from staring at her crystal blue eyes, Booth shook his head. "No, he was found in a warehouse area. We found his car three blocks away from where he was murdered . . . Would you happen to know why he was out late at night, by himself in an area that only does business during the day?"

Not sure what was going on, Brennan shook her head. "Dr. Goodman didn't consult with me about his personal life. He was a very private man."

Her eyes mesmerizing, Booth thought if he stared at them long enough he'd lose himself in their cool depths/ "That really isn't an answer."

Resigned, Brennan nodded her head. "Very astute, Agent Booth . . . Dr. Goodman was investigating a breach in Jeffersonian security. Some of our priceless artifacts have disappeared and have turned up in auctions. He was trying to investigate the problem quietly. He hoped to find out who the thief was and put an end to the pilfering."

Making a few notes, Booth finally looked up. "He should have contacted the FBI, Dr. Brennan. That kind of thing is our job. Now he's dead . . . Do you know if he had any suspects?"

Brennan decided that she needed to trust the agent if Dr. Goodman's murderer was going to be found. "Yes, he mentioned that Dr. Evan Klimkew was acting rather erratically lately. Dr. Goodman told me that he'd heard that Evan was connected with a smuggling ring in the middle east. Apparently, he's been helping some tomb raiders turn their finds into cash. They sell their items to the Jeffersonian through a middle man and then once the items are here, they let some time elapse and Evan steals the item and sells it to private collectors. It's an interesting way to get around importation restrictions. It's also not very smart. Dr. Goodman surmised what was going on with just a few clues. He thinks Evan underestimated the intelligence of the people around him. Dr. Goodman was very annoyed and he wanted to catch Evan in the act and then he planned to turn him over to the FBI."

Jotting down everything she told him, Booth bit his lower lip. "He should have called the FBI." Standing, Booth smiled at her. "Well, thank you for the information, Dr. Brennan. You've been a big help."

Quickly standing, Brennan asked the agent, "What are you going to do next?"

Placing his notebook in his jacket pocket, Booth answered her. "I'm going to check into the background of Dr. Klimkew. When I've uncovered all that I can, I'm going to talk to him."

She wanted to help the agent and she wanted Dr. Goodman to be revenged if possible. "May I be there when you talk to him? I may be able to help you."

Curious, Booth checked his watch. "Why? You're not a trained investigator."

Folding her arms across her chest, Brennan explained. "Because Dr. Klimkew is a genius and he won't take your questions seriously. He will take them seriously if I ask them for you. He respects genius and I am a genius."

Amused, Booth smiled. "Tell you what, I'll let you help me question him. I'll give you a call when I'm ready. In the mean time, don't talk to him about Dr. Goodman's murder or about the smuggling. In fact, don't talk to anyone about any of this."

"You want me to obfuscate?" Brennan decided to be completely honest with Booth. "I'm not very good at lying."

Shrugging his shoulders, Booth started to move towards the door. "Don't think of it as lying. Think of it as withholding information from a colleague for sciency reasons."

Surprised, Brennan moved around her desk. "There is no such word as sciency."

Laughing, Booth walked over to the door. "I'm not a genius Doc, so I'll take your word for it."

oooooooooooooo

Okay, I've given you a lot of clues so you should know that we are not dealing with Booth and Brennan in their normal world. All will be made clear in the next chapter which is also the final chapter. I will post it next Tuesday. Let me know what you think of my story. Thank you.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you for your wonderful reviews. I appreciated them all. Lots of clues . . . all will be made clear by the end of this chapter.

I don't own Bones.

Ooooooooooooooo

Determined, Brennan walked down the sidewalk, keeping as close to the wall as possible whiled she searched for the address in the dark. With so few lights available, Brennan carried a flashlight in her right hand. As she came upon each main entrance, she flashed her light on the numbers above the door, trying to find the warehouse she suspected was being rented by Evan Klimkew. Finally finding the one she was looking for, she turned the knob on the door and found it locked. Standing on her toes, she peered into the dark window next to the door and tried to see if she could see anything. The room she was looking into a dark cave caused her to sigh with frustration. Stepping back, she looked in both directions and then hurried across the street. Finding an alley between two buildings opposite from the warehouse she was interested in, she placed her back against the far wall and stared at the entrance.

After several minutes of quite concentration, she heard a throat being cleared a few feet from where she was standing. Whirling around, Brennan held up her flashlight and aimed the beam at the man standing near her.

Holding his arm up to shield his eyes, Booth complained. "If you don't mind, I'd rather you turn that damn light off. I don't like being made a target."

Embarrassed, Brennan turned off her flashlight. "What are you doing here?"

Angry with Brennan, Booth moved closer so he wouldn't have to raise his voice. "Since I'm the cop and you aren't, I think that should be my question. Didn't you learn anything when Dr. Goodman was murdered here two days ago?"

Turning back to look at the warehouse across the street, Brennan shrugged her shoulders.. "I hadn't heard from you and I wasn't sure if you were actively looking into Dr. Goodman's death. I know the FBI is busy and I didn't want his murder to be put on the back of the stove."

Exaspserated, Booth stepped closer to the beautiful anthropologist. "The back burner . . . not the back of the stove . . . Look, Dr. Goodman's death is being investigated by me. I've been working my ass off for the last two days trying to tie everything together. I haven't had much sleep, but I got a tip that something might be happening tonight and that's why I'm here. You on the other hand are a civilian and you shouldn't be here."

Staring intently at the warehouse across the street, Brennan commented, "If you had kept me informed about your progress then I might have let you handle it, but since you didn't think it was important to keep me in the loop then I felt I needed to do my own investigation."

His anger rising, Booth shook his head. "Listen, lady, I work alone, I . . ."

Interrupting the beginning of his tirade, Brennan pointed at the warehouse. "Look a light came on. Whoever is in there must have used the back entrance."

Suddenly calm. Booth stepped closer to the end of the alleyway and studied the light. "Good, that's what I was waiting for." Turning he pointed at the ground. "Stay here." Hurrying across the street, Booth didn't pay attention to the whereabouts of his companion until she was standing beside him next to the warehouse main entrance. Livid, Booth snarleda at her. "I told you to wait over there."

Worried, Brennan glanced around the area and then glared at Booth. "You need back up, where is your backup?"

Shrugging, Booth pointed across the street. "I told you I work alone. If I need backup I'll call some in. My car is at the end of the alley we were in. I'm just going to check some things out. If I can handle it then I won't need backup. I need you to go wait in my car."

Concerned, Brennan shook her head. "That is unacceptable. I will be your backup."

Snorting, Booth tried to reason with her. "I can't do my job and watch you too. You can't be my backup, you don't have a gun. Go wait in my car."

Her purse under her arm, Brennan opened it and pulled out a snub nosed revolver. "I'm armed and I know how to use it."

Wary, Booth stared at the gun and then at his companion. "Okay, look, I'm going to jimmy the lock. Once we're in try not to shoot me, okay? I'm the good guy and I don't want you to put any holes in me."

Unamused, Brennan shook her head. "I'm not stupid, Agent Booth. You don't need to be concerned. I will not shoot you."

Uncertain, Booth exhaled deeply. "Famous last words."

Ooooooooooooooooo

Entering the warehouse, Booth noticed that the front of the building wasn't well lit. Most of the light was coming from the overhead lights in the back of the building. Holding a finger across his lips, Booth made sure his companion knew to remain quiet. Pointing to the left, he motioned for her to follow him.

Brennan looked towards the middle of the warehouse, saw some movement but followed Booth to the left anyway.

As they hugged the wall, Booth spied some packing crates and walked quietly towards them. Brennan following behind him, watched the back of the building, her curiosity in overdrive. Not paying close attention to Booth, she bumped into him as he stopped behind a large crate. Shaking her head, she blushed.

Rolling his eyes, Booth turned his attention back towards the men in the rear of the building. Pointing to a stack of crates further in, Booth made a motion with his fingers and then held one of the fingers against his lips.

Irritated, Brennan grimaced but nodded her head in acknowledgement. Following the agent they moved closer to the back where the activity was located. Arriving at the stack of wooden boxes, Booth pointed towards the floor and pointed again. Frowning, he waited for her to acknowledge his command.

Reluctant to comply, Brennan nodded her head and pointed at the floor. With trepidation, she watched her companion move away from the boxes and move towards the three men at the back of the building. Staying hidden, she listened.

"Okay, that's enough, FBI . . . put your hands up." The sudden sound of gun fire surprising her, Brennan ducked down and ran towards some crates closer to where she supposed Booth was. The gun shots echoing throughout the building, Brennan peeked around the crates and saw Booth, hiding behind a smaller stack of wooden boxes. Firing his gun, he appeared to be calm and unemotional. Emulating him, she peered around the other side of the boxes and saw one man lying on the ground, blood pooling on the ground around him while another man was hiding behind a box out of sight of Booth. Taking careful aim, she shot the man in the shoulder and watched him scream and grab his arm, dropping his gun.

Turning to look where Brennan was, Booth held up his thumb and nodded. Calling out, Booth spoke to the only armed man left in the warehouse, "FBI, Dr. Klimkew. Your two men are down. You're by yourself. My men and I can wait you out if you'd like and pick you off the first chance we get or you can surrender. Your choice. I don't care either way."

After a few minutes of silence, Evan Klimkew threw his gun away from where he was squatting and held his hands up. "Don't shoot me. I give up."

A gleam in his eyes, Booth shouted back. "Stand up and turn around slowly. I want to make sure you aren't armed."

Doing as he was ordered, Klimkew stood up, his hands held up above his head and slowly turned around. "I'm not armed. Don't shoot me, please."

Satisfied, Booth stood up, walked over to where Klimkew was and shook his head at the man. "I'm arresting you for the murder of Dr. Daniel Goodman."

Shaking his head, Klimkew pointed a finger towards the dead man lying nearby. "I didn't kill him, Benny did that. I begged him to not do it, but he told me he'd kill me if I tried to stop him. I'm just an innocent bystander in all this."

Booth grabbed the indignant scientist's wrists and lowered them to his sides and then towards his back. Placing his gun in his holster, Booth cuffed the man. Pulling him towards the crying man lying injured on the floor, Booth called out to Brennan. "Hey, Doc, give me a hand."

Coming around the crates, Brennan walked over to where Booth and the other men were. "How can I help?"

Glad she was alright, Booth pointed at the guns on the floor. "You can pick up everyone's gun and carry them over to those crates over there. Then I'd like you to go out to my car and call for help. Just pick up the speaker, press the button on the side, tell them you're calling for me and you need back up. Give them the address and then wait outside for my guys to arrive."

Doing as he requested, Brennan heard Dr. Klimkew comment, "She's your backup? She's not a cop for God's sake. I work with her."

Amused, Booth laughed while he pulled his gun from his holster and sat on a crate near the doctor. "Not anymore you don't.."

Ooooooooooo

After help arrived, Booth and Brennan turned over the two survivors and walked out to Booth's car. Sliding onto the front seat of the car, Booth rubbed his eyes. "God I am so tired. I don't think I've slept more than ten hours in the last three days."

Concerned for her companion, Brennan settled on the front seat, reached over and placed her hand on his arm. "You need to go to sleep, Booth. It's dangerous to go that long without sleep."

Nodding his head, Booth yawned and leaned his head back. "Yeah . . . I . . ."

A tender smile on her face, Brennan promised him as he fell asleep. "Sleep, Booth. I'll watch over you. You can trust me."

Ooooooooooooooooo

The room dark, Booth awoke in a confused state. Blinking his eyes rapidly, he tried to focus and found that difficult to do. Rubbing his eyes, he willed himself to wake up.

"Booth are you alright?"

Turning his head, Booth yawned and smiled. "Bones, hey . . . yeah, I guess I dozed off." Puzzled he sat up. "How'd I end up in bed, the last thing I remember was sitting on the couch watching a game?" Pausing, he looked at his boxers and frowned. "And where did my clothes go?"

Sitting down next to him, Brennan explained, "You were exhausted, Booth. You've barely slept since you got out of prison. Your body couldn't take anymore abuse and you passed out. When I couldn't wake you up, I called Cam to come over and check on you. Mr. Viziri came with her and once she determined that you were just exhausted, he helped me move you in to here. I removed your pants and shirt so you'd be more comfortable. You've slept for twenty six hours."

Surprised that he'd managed to sleep that long, Booth rubbed his forehead. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you . . . I had the weirdest dream. We were in the 50's and we weren't partners, but you helped me catch a murderer. It was such a cool dream."

Placing her hand on his thigh, Brennan smiled at her husband. "It sounds very interesting."

Grateful that he has such a wonderful woman in his life, Booth reached out and placed his hand around her wrist. "Do you know what the really cool part was . . . besides the clothes?"

Shaking her head, Brennan asked him, "No . . . what?"

A tender smile on his lips, Booth leaned over and kissed her. "Even though we weren't partners, you still had my back. I knew I could trust you."

Pleased, Brennan returned his kiss. "You can always trust me, Booth. I love you."

Oooooooooooo

So what did you think of my story? This story is a salute to episode 200. I don't have a clue what they plan to do with it, but I thought this might be cool.


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